Blow by Blow

Jade's been out of town for almost a week. I am a hermit. I write, I read, I watch movies, I try to write more. My dog's shed. Clementine needs a hair cut. She has an ear infection. My friend Scott calls me and asks me to come over and go swimming. I do. We find a turd in the pool - what we SUSPECT to be a turd in the pool - and jump out. We don't chance it. We make pizza. We eat pizza. We watch an old movie he made in high school and laugh at how cheesey it is. Cheesey in a good way - boxes that eat people. We modge-podge together. He tells me he hates his neighbors. We watch his neighbors in the dark. His wife comes home and puts on Boy Meets World. I try making fun of it but can't stop watching. She leaves to shower. The episode ends. I wait a moment to see if Scott will play the next one. He doesn't. I am disappointed so ask him to. He and I both wonder if the beer drinking dude-bros next door and their slutty girlfriends think we're "fags" because we're sitting close together on a couch, modge-podging, drinking tea, watching Boy Meets World. Ryder Strong is a bad boy and a teen heart throb. I go home at midnight and stay up for another six hours writing, reading, watching movies and trying to write some more. I fall asleep and wake up at two. It's Memorial Day and I stay at home, read, clean and give writing a break. I fall asleep at six again, wake up at two, wash the dishes, go to work at six, arrive at seven. Edit. The night goes well. I am on top of my game. I am pleased with my cut. Everyone leaves early. Everyone is done early. I am the only one left. The building is dark. The hallway is dark. When I'm ready to leave I hit the elevator button and become highly paranoid while standing in the pitch black hallway. I suddenly fear zombies (specifically the one that kills Johnny in the 1990 remake of Night of the Living Dead) and this giant doll that was featured on Nick at Nite's Are you Afraid of the Dark? These two things have always scared me and probably always will. I fear the elevators opening up and one single solitary zombie shambling out. What are the chances? It didn't happen. I ride the elevator down and think I've gotten trapped somewhere between the second and first floor. No - the door opens. I go to my car and feel a pain in my chest. I think I'm dying. Then it's gone and I'm fine. I drive home. My dog's are excited to see me (no matter what time it is) and that is one of the reasons I love them and I wish I could have that kind of excitement everytime I saw a friend. I write four episodes of Patrick and Molly that I've thought of throughout the day and I think they're okay but could maybe use a little flushing out. I read more of The Rules of Attraction by Brett Easton Ellis and go to bed where I have a dream that Matt Stone (co-creator of South Park) is trying to take away the chinese food he bought me for lunch because I didn't eat it right away. I tell him I just had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich not ten minutes ago and I promise I'll eat it in just a bit. He is very mad at me and the dream is very serious and I want to cry in the dream. The last two nights I've had dreams where I'm naked and feeling insecure. I wake up and have missed the mailman AGAIN. Can't seem to get my netflix out. Want to start watching Breaking Bad - some show everyone is talking about where this guy has cancer. I think about cancer every day. Everyday I think about cancer. This person who follows my blog just got cancer. This girl who was my senior prom date just thought she had cancer (she did not) a guy I went to high school with died of cancer of few years back. A girl I went to high school with died a few years after that. A guy I went to high school with just found out he has leukemia. I cry about it. I send out a message on facebook asking for his contact info and aquire his cell phone number. I call him and leave a message. I tell him what happened to me and that I'd like to talk to him, just to say hello. Just to say that it sucks and I get it. It was good for me to talk to someone who had experienced it. Ridden the Dragon. I get cut off on his machine and call back. I finish my message and leave my email. For some reason, every time I pass a pretty girl on the street I wonder if she's ever had cancer. I don't know why I think this. Only girls. Only pretty ones.